


Xiān Kè Lái

by Aviantei



Series: Xiān Kè Lái Verse [1]
Category: Shaman King (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Friendship/Love, Non-Shaman Fight AU, POV First Person, Shibuya Operation - Story Storm, Their relationship is complicated
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-12
Updated: 2019-10-23
Packaged: 2020-12-13 21:22:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 17,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21004367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aviantei/pseuds/Aviantei
Summary: [AU] It wasn't anything big, dramatic, or depressing. We simply decided to say goodbye. [Shibuya Operation - Story Storm]





	1. 1. Lánhuā

**Author's Note:**

> This fanfiction was originally published on fanfiction.net between December 21, 2014 and March 3, 2015. It was part of the [Shibuya Operation - Story Storm], a winter writing challenge aimed towards trying to complete a project (or an arc of a project) within ten weeks. Basically, I had the idea for this story, and, since it was pretty short, I decided to go for it and use it for my piece.
> 
> I have lots of love for Shaman King, but I've always had some sort of guilt over the fact that I was originally going to pair one of my OCs with Ren and then that...changed. Thus, this fic! Then again, this fic didn't exactly go as planned, either. But, hey, there's the extras collection?
> 
> In any event, I also wanted to explore the ManKin verse without the Shaman Fight element, so here we are. 
> 
> All chapter titles are (what Google told me) are the Chinese names for various flowers. See if you can find out what they mean!
> 
> I hope you enjoy.

**Xiān Kè Lái**

By: Aviantei

[Shibuya Operation—Story Storm]

1\. Lánhuā

* * *

I’m at the end of the queue of people in front of me ready to clock out. Others tap their feet impatiently, and most of them have their tie knots pulled far away from their throats. I only let out a long exhale from my nose, and leave it at that. It’s the same scene every day, and only more so on Fridays. You’d think the employees would get used to it by now.

But that’s not the case. I stare forward and focus on an invisible point in my stomach to block out their chatter.

Within ten minutes of silent meditation, my employee number has triggered its sequence in the system, and I have a fresh time slip in my hand. With exact precision, forty hours, not a minute more or less, are crumpled up in my palm. I don’t need some paper to tell me what I already know.

I’m not even out the door when I pass a cluster of familiar faces. One of them stops in midsentence to wave at me. He works in the cubicle three down from mine, and a grin breaks over his face. “Hey, Ren,” he says, the use of my first name his attempt to be friendly, “we were just thinking about grabbing dinner together. Wanna come?”

I’m conflicted. On one hand, I want to be blunt—that three months of the same response every week should let him know that I’m not interested in joining his small clique of “fresh” employees. On the other, I know I need to be polite to my coworkers for the sake of “company harmony.”

I give him half a smile. A short wave as I walk out the door. The sound of their chatter resuming follows me until the door closes, replaced with the bustle of people as nearly everyone in the city clamors to head anywhere but work. I keep a secure grip on my bag and head down the sidewalk.

The people flow like tiny river. Ripples occur as they enter the street, disperse as they leave. Splashes occur as some of them fail to read the flow, push against it. Someone running in the opposite direction of me makes a small collision with another person. They hardly acknowledge each other and move on. Cigarettes light up in little red shifting constellations. I find it hard to breathe.

Even though the sky above me is still cradling the sun, the sky almost looks gray through the haze of smoke. I pull the collar of my jacket higher in hopes of blocking it out, except my coat smells like smoke from hanging next to my coworkers’ belongings.

I wonder if washing it will even be worth it. I want to see the stars.

I’m not even halfway to the train yet. As if it’s mocking my tiny wish, the sky clouds up, curtains of gray dumping piles of rain on the street. The effect is immediate, waves rippling through the crowds. In some patches, a few people pull out umbrellas, even though the weather report said nothing about precipitation this morning.

I’m hit with the memory of my grandfather smacking me upside with an umbrella on a perfectly sunny elementary school morning, yelling at me about intuition and fortune telling.

I scowl. The rain doesn’t let up. Not wanting to be soaked to the bone, I step into the first door lining the sidewalk I can get to. It’s a small establishment, but most of the tables are empty. A waitress passing by says I can seat myself, so I pick the smallest table they have, secluded in a corner.

Within seconds, I have another waitress asking me for my order. I think about it, then order milk tea. My hair and clothes drip water onto the seat, a puddle forming at my feet. By the time the waitress returns with my drink and a towel in hand, the entire building is crowded, a symphony of squeaking sneakers and casual conversation filling the once silent space.

I take a sip of tea. I inhale and exhale as the warmth expands in my stomach. Feeling somewhat at peace, I quickly dry myself off, then rest the towel as a buffer between my shoulders and my drenched jacket hanging from the back of my chair.

Inside my briefcase rests a pile of reports from the higher ups—status reports outlining the research going on and any advancements made. In my cubicle quadrant, they’re more of a joke, and the employees laugh about them in the break room, only reading the parts that apply to their specific communications areas.

I don’t have any work related to them, but I still read them anyway. I hope that it’ll get me somewhere, even though it hasn’t done anything for me in the past several months but keep me somewhat connected to the company.

I shift against the chair’s upholstery, hoping for the sensation of static electricity.

“Hey, listen, I’m like, really sorry, but do you mind if I sit here? The place is totally packed.”

I don’t even look up until a few seconds later when I realize that the words were directed towards me. A girl stands there, looking like she’s just been drowned, partway leaning over the table. Her sopped hair lets loose its own drizzle, and I have to scramble to save my papers from the puddle that forms. A backpack hangs off of one shoulder—probably a student.

“Everywhere else was taken,” she repeats. “Do you mind if I sit with you?”

In fact, I do mind. I don’t say anything, though, and judging by how she sits down, it doesn’t make it to my face, either. She plucks up the menu card, scattering rainwater onto the table. I give up my review of work materials and stow them away before they suffer the flood.

The waitress descends with two towels—one for the new arrival and one to replace mine. I just barely catch my newcomer’s order for some herbal tea before the waitress is off in a flash again. Someone at another table laughs loudly.

For a moment, my uninvited guest and I look at each other. Her hair is dyed an almost luminous green and held up with several hairclips lining her scalp. Definitely a student. She would have a hard time finding a job like that.

It’s nothing so sudden. Just she leans back in her seat letting out a small exhale, and our gazes slide apart.

I reposition my new towel, enjoying its lack of squelching noises when I lean back on it. I take a fresh sip of my tea—a bit cool from its idle time, but still warm enough. I have the whole evening ahead of me, followed by the weekend. I’ll have plenty of time to catch up with the research reports before Monday.

In any event, it’s been too long since I’ve taken a moment out of my usual routine to breathe.

I only open my eyes again once the girl and the waitress start talking again. A too sweet smell fills our immediate air bubble. The tea in the student’s cup is almost a bright pink. I don’t even question it since she almost inhales the cup and its contents before standing up.

“Ah~. That hit the spot for sure.”

The towel provided by the waitress is still untouched, halfway hanging off the edge of the table. The student ignores it and heads to the counter to pay for her drink, just adding more water to the puddles that the staff has been trying to mop up. It’s still raining outside, bringing up the question of why anyone would want to go outside.

Just before she goes, the student picks up an umbrella. She leaves it dormant at her side before heading out the door.

The jingle of the bell at the entrance manages to weave through the sounds of the crowd and make it to my ears.


	2. 2. Cuì Jú

**Xiān Kè Lái**

By: Aviantei

[Shibuya Operation—Story Storm]

2\. Cuì Jú

* * *

The second time I go to the café, it’s a perfectly sunny day that has nothing to do with rain. I just walk past it and recognize the sign on the door. Their tea wasn’t half bad the first time around, and I don’t have anything pressing to do—just the evening routine of reviewing project reports and exercise after dinner.

It’s a lot less crowded. I take the same seat as before, order the same drink. The waitress is different, though, and my drink comes a lot faster, the steam still rising off the rim. She retreats, and I let myself enjoy the bit of silence that can only come from small talk in the background.

“Oh, wow, is this for real?”

The only reason I recognize her is because she’s one of two people I’ve seen with that shade of hair, and the other one isn’t female. Today there’s large flower-shaped hairpiece sticking out against the green in shocking pink.

“Hey, this is a great coincidence. Let’s not waste it, okay?”

There’s several seats open—the café is almost empty. Still, she sits down right across from me. I think to protest, but once she sits down, I just keep my mouth occupied with my teacup. If she wants to sit there, it’s not any of my business. She’s not soaking wet and I don’t have any paperwork to do, either. It’s not like I have to talk with her.

“So,” she says, “come here often?”

I almost snort into my teacup. I can hear Horohoro snickering in my memory. Was that meant to be a pickup line? She raises an eyebrow at me, corners of lips twitching in a smile.

“_Seriously_, though,” she emphasizes. “It’s more likely to run into someone if you come to a place a lot. How else am I supposed to run into you like this?”

I set down my teacup. She’s not going to stop, so I might as well participate a bit. A quick breath steadies my tone of voice. “Well, you could have been waiting for me, coming back here instead,” I supply. “Of course, then, your question would be pointless.”

In response to my pathetic attempt at small talk, the snickering from my memories increases.

She doesn’t laugh, though. Her elbow sticks to the table as her cheek rests on her fist. “Well, I did break up with my boyfriend a few days after I met you, so that might be it.”

I don’t know what sort of face I make, but her eyes widen a few seconds past that. Her free hand waves through the air at a less than frantic pace. “Okay, you need to chill out, please. I was just joking. No, wait. I really did break up with him, but it doesn’t have anything to do with you. It just—_happened_, you know. Like we looked at each other and were like, ‘this isn’t working,’ you know?”

I don’t know. I’ve never dated anyone before, let alone broken up with them. I got teased for that all the time when I was in school, but it was more friendly jabs than anything. Still, the concept isn’t new to me, so I nod.

The waitress returns with a glass teapot. Inside, I can see the shape of a flower staining the tea water into a soft green. A small cake gets set down in front of her, flowers built out of icing decorating the surface. It almost looks real, but somehow I get the feeling she’d still eat them even if they were.

She walks around in the rain without opening her umbrella after all. I don’t know exactly how the two connect, but it seems to make sense to me.

“I see you actually mean to stay long enough to taste your tea this time,” I comment. The student snickers a bit while pouring a cup for herself.

“You can have some, too,” she says, raising her cup in a small toast. “I’d be here all night if I tried to drink this on my own.”

I glace at the teapot on its coaster. It’s not very big, but if you wanted to pace yourself, it would take a while. The smell wafting towards me reveals the flavor as jasmine. Not one of my favorites, but I don’t exactly dislike it.

After all, its rude to turn down a gift.

“Alright,” I allow. She watches me without any expectance. I still have at least half of my own cup left and I intend to savor it. Her dessert fork pierces through an artificial flower, purple icing smearing against the plate. “Is there a point in making it so blatantly obvious that you like flowers?”

I probably shouldn’t be talking so skeptically. But she’s been talking formally, so I guess I can let it go. Still, she is a student, so maybe her attitude is to be expected? I’m hardly much older, though.

Is the gap between me and others really so big?

She shakes her head as she swallows. “There’s no point in showing it off,” she answers. “I just do it because I like them.” She taps her fork against her plate. I cringe at her lack of manners. “That’s why I come here. ‘Cause it looks nice.”

I haven’t paid too much attention, but she’s right. Each table has its own little display, either sitting on it or above in a hanging basket. They aren’t that overpowering in terms of scent, so it’s easy to appreciate the taste of tea properly, which is probably why I haven’t noticed.

Somehow, I’ve become less observant.

There’s something else, too. She’s perfectly carefree and honest. Another sugar flower is torn apart. There’s so much icing on the cake I can already imagine the cavities she’s going to get.

“So how about it?” the student says. Her fingers pitter patter on the side of the teapot. “We’re going to be here a while. Why don’t we share names? I’ll go first. I’m Bai Cuì Jú. Nice to meet you.”

I frown. Of course, she’s named after a flower, too. Looking at her stupid snack cake is making me hungry, too, but I don’t want any sweets. I slide the menu card over from the side of the table and study it, hoping for something of substance.

“Come on. Sharing is supposed to go two ways, you know.”

“It is if you’re trying to get something out of it,” I grumble. “That’s hardly in the spirit of sharing.” She still snickers, though, so I sigh. Keeping hold of my center at the moment is a lot harder than it should be. Still, I try. “But since I’m sure you’ll complain about it, I’m Tao Ren.”

Bai hums a little. “Tao. Tao, Tao,” she repeats. An accusing index finger is sent in my direction. “Are you for real? Are you sure you’re not just telling me a fake name to get me off your back.”

I can feel myself twitching. “Are you?”

“Maybe.” She teases the word as it comes through her lips. “But that doesn’t matter.” She picks up the teapot, topping off her cup. The spout comes closer to my own, even if it’s not empty yet. I move it out of her reach. “Well, that was my idea for a conversation starter. Why don’t you start next?”

I’m severely tempted to get up and leave. I’m not really in the mood for this, and I still don’t have enough practice with conversation to get anywhere. I wanted to come and relax, and got this instead. But still…

_“Hehe, you’ve certainly changed a lot, Ren.”_

I don’t know what I’m going to say, but I open my mouth.


	3. 3. Jiànlán

**Xiān Kè Lái**

By: Aviantei

[Shibuya Operation—Story Storm]

3\. Jiànlán

* * *

“Okay, now I’m starting to think you’re doing this on purpose,” I say, because it’s really the only conversation starter I can even consider. My eyes manage to catch sight of her backpack. “Do you even go to school?”

Bai giggles a bit, standing on the platform beside me. The train’s still not arriving for another couple of minutes, but she’s there, in all her pastel flower glory. She’s even wearing a scarf with floral patterns all over the place.

“Of course I do,” she says. I didn’t ask for it, but the bag slips off her shoulder, the drawstring on the top pulled open to reveal textbooks and folders, which do look a little bit worn by use. “All my classes are in the mornings, though, so I kind of have the rest of the day to go around and do whatever.”

My hand twitches against the handle of my own bag. Really, she reminds me too much of him. If it weren’t for that experience, I’d be wondering how Bai has managed to even get this far in life. I don’t even bother to hide my partial annoyance to ask, “Does studying even register to you in that time frame?”

She nods. Dangling earrings bounce with the movement, also designed like flower blossoms. It’s like plants are getting pushed around in the wind.

_“He bends, but he doesn’t break.”_

“Don’t be stupid; I wouldn’t have made it this far if I didn’t,” she chides. Her bag returns to its position on her shoulders with a huff. “I’m set to graduate next year, you know. I just don’t like indoors all this much, so I go and study at the park. Sheesh, you look young, but I didn’t figure you were actually such an old man.”

She’s just teasing me, hoping to get at my buttons. I know this sort of behavior well, so it doesn’t bother me as much as it had used to. Still, she’s a bit older than I thought—only a couple of years below me.

And she’s going to get tossed into the working world that soon? Forgive me if I don’t see that working out too well.

“Oh, I guess I like studying at the greenhouse on campus, too. But it’s not too cold yet, so I tend to prefer fresh air, the sunlight—”

“Getting soaked by the rain?” I add in. Bai looks far too happy that I’ve responded. I don’t even bother to scowl. I guess my curiosity got the better of me. Before, I would have classified the activity as stupid and left it at that.

Bai raises a finger into the air. I’m surprised her nails don’t have any traces of flower patterns painted on them. “It’s simple, really. All plants need to be watered.”

The metaphor she’s going for is so obvious. I try not to acknowledge it.

“It’s because I’m a plant,” she insists, her tone similar to mothers explaining traffic lights to their children.

_I can see that._ The deadpan and dry response stops in my neurons before the muscles of my tongue start to form it. Finally, the train I’ve been waiting on pulls up. The wave of exiting passengers collides with those entering. In the end, the train car isn’t as packed as it could be, and I stand near the middle, within arm’s reach of the support pole.

I had been hoping that maybe Bai was waiting on a different train, but she stands in front of me, her arm stretched up and almost on her tiptoes to reach the support bar above her. It really would just be easier if she sat down in the seat behind her.

Still, our eye contact without connection remains in place.

“Come on, that was a joke. Why don’t you laugh?” she asks. She sighs, which I see more in the movement of her shoulders than hear over the train announcement as we pull out of the station. “Okay, fine, it was lame. I get it. Still, humor me maybe?”

Two and a half conversations obviously haven’t been enough for her to realize that ‘humoring people’ really isn’t a part of my personality. The train turns, and Bai’s backpack almost slips off her shoulder in the momentum. She manages to stay upright, but I get the feeling that she’ll fall over by the time this ride is over.

“Why are you so interested in talking to me anyway?”

Partway hunched over, Bai looks up at me. Her eyes are dark, contrasting the rest of her wardrobe. With the lengths she went to with her hair, I would have expected colored contacts, too.

She puts a hand down on the seat to help stand up straight again, stubbornly still gripping onto the ceiling support. She attempts to blow her bangs out of her face, then is forced to actually use her hand for the job. “I dunno,” she says, “like I mentioned before, isn’t this some sort of amazing coincidence?” The train stops, and I rest my hand on the support pole. Passengers trade positions, but it’s still not too crowded. I’m kind of impressed. There’s usually much more traffic than this. “I just figured it’d be a waste if I didn’t talk to you after seeing you again. That’s it.”

It’s a reason, though I don’t know if I’d classify it as a good one. Still, it’s not half bad, either.

“Alright,” I allow. “So what do you want to talk about?”

I wouldn’t call our past few conversations anything substantial. Bai did most of the talking, and I hardly listened, let alone gave any input. Anything I decided to tune into hasn’t retained itself into the future. Of course, she didn’t insist on me participating before.

I could have gotten out of this easily. Guess there’s no way out now.

Bai grins at me, the most teeth she’s ever shown me at once. “I dunno. You pick.”

I don’t bother to expend the energy on getting upset. Flexibility is important at times like this. Still, I don’t feel like just chatting about nonsensicalities like the state of traffic or the economy or any of that. And divulging any of my own interests to a practical stranger is _definitely_ out of bounds.

I shift my stance so I don’t lock up my knees. “Why don’t you tell me about yourself,” I suggest, the words almost betraying how lazy I feel about the whole scenario.

There’s a strong chance Bai has already told me the condensed-for-a-tea-pot version of her life story. There are too many options to entertain, but she adjusts as more passengers shift in and out of the space around us. She has to take a step closer to me, but there’s still an open space between us.

Her head tilts up to the ceiling.

“Hm, well, we already got names out of the way. So, yeah, in terms of basic information, I’m twenty-one, and I’m studying Biology right now. Uh… sheesh, what do you want, a business card?” She cracks her neck, and I can almost see the next crack at my attitude in her expression. She skips over it. “Seriously, though, you’re going to have to be more specific than that.”

I shrug. “I thought you were just waiting for the opportunity,” I say, not considering how blunt the words are.

Bai only snickers. “There we go. I don’t mind if you relax a little around me.” I don’t know how she managed to take my response as a relaxed one, but she’s right. I almost forgot to watch myself around her. This is almost getting dangerous. “But, come on, I wanted to have a conversation. If I just wanted to hear the sound of my own voice, I’d be sitting at home, talking to a mirror.”

_I guess I underestimated her._ “Okay, then. Why Biology then?” I ask. “You planning on going into research after school?”

Bai smiles a bit, but it’s very small, the tiniest trace of irony pulling up at her lips. “No, nothing like that,” she says. I won’t say I’m the best at reading expressions, but I can almost see a faraway look in her eyes. “Like I said last time, I just like flowers. So I figured that studying Biology would let me work with the things I like. And there’s the greenhouse connected to the science building, so…”

I glance back over her attire again. In addition to the hairpin, there’s an embroidered pattern of flowers sown onto the hem of her capris. Really, everything’s about flowers for this girl, right down to her name.

I meter out my next words, trying not to sound abrasive. “Then what field are you going into?”

“Hm, I wonder…” Her free hand taps out her other arm for the role of support duty. “I guess I’d like to work in a flower shop or something? That’s what I’m really good at.”

I think it over. Her uncertainty is almost troubling. Maybe because I had a good idea where I was going when I started high school. Maybe because I think the answer to her trouble is a simple one.

“Why not just go into the field after high school?” I propose. At the very least, if I had her interests, that’s the path that makes the most sense.

“Yeah, well…” She’s starting to dance around her words now. Despite her nervousness, Bai keeps talking, although at a more staggered pace. “My parents said I should at least try going to school. They offered to help out with expenses, too. And everyone kept talking about how ‘it’s okay not to know what you want to do, taking classes will help you figure it out’ and… Ah, I probably seem a bit pathetic, huh?”

I can’t tell if she wants assurance or for me to reinforce her assertion. I don’t particularly agree, but the first option really isn’t my style. I’d say more mislead than anything. So many people get stuck not knowing what they’re doing and just get caught up in the flow before getting smacked first into a dead end.

I only sigh, though. “Why didn’t you try Business, then? You could have used that to open up your own shop instead.”

Bai nods once, then twice. I’m surprised her hairpiece doesn’t fall off. “I tried that,” she says. “I couldn’t take it. I rather work under someone else then have to handle all that. So I guess I’m stuck going forward.”

The train pulls to a halt. Double-checking the signs, it’s my stop. I adjust my bag and head for the exit. Bai stays in place. I don’t make any reasons for it, because it’s obvious. I start to head for the station’s exit.

“Hey, Ren!”

I turn back. Bai is standing in the compartment’s door, her hand selfishly on the open switch. A few other passengers give her dirty looks, but no one makes any moves, unwilling to make any more of scene then there already is.

“Listen, I know this is silly, but do you think we could make our next meeting intentional? I don’t want to wait for another coincidence…”

The door tries to close. Bai presses down on the button again. A number of eyes are on me now, almost blaming me for the situation.

_Really, I wouldn’t let this happen if I had a choice in the matter!_

Almost belatedly, I realize that I do.

The heaviest sigh I’ve heaved in a long time escapes my lips.

“Stop holding up the train, you idiot.”


	4. 4. Xiānrénzhǎng

**Xiān Kè Lái**

By: Aviantei

[Shibuya Operation—Story Storm]

4\. Xiānrénzhǎng

* * *

I don’t know how she talked me into it. Maybe because she was causing a big scene. In any event, later in the week I find myself at her university, staring down Bai’s crudely drawn map on some piece of paper she ripped out one of her notebooks. The lines are uneven from being scribbled on the side of a subway tunnel.

_The tear in the paper’s not even even…_

Still, I manage to navigate my way to the marked building, four stories up. At the top, I can see glass glinting over the edge, just barely. Students walking across the courtyard give me strange looks as they walk past. A group of girls condenses closer together, giggling like they’re about to implode on themselves.

I’m extremely out of place here. Even worse, the attitudes of the people around me haven’t changed at all.

“Ren!” Bai leans out the door to the Science Building, waving me over. At least university isn’t as frivolous as high school, so no one erupts into whispers as I head over. Bai ushers me inside, holding open the door, then heads immediately for the stairwell. “Thanks for coming all this way. I wasn’t sure you’d actually do it.”

She doesn’t look back at me, just keeps hopping up the stairs two at a time. I continue at a more reasonable pace, already on the verge of sighing. “I said I would come,” I say, resting my hand on the handrail. “I don’t just go around breaking promises like that.”

I can tell by the tone of Bai’s voice that she’s smiling. “You’re a pretty nice guy, Ren.”

I don’t know if I exactly agree.

The trek up the stairs isn’t as bad as it could be. It only takes a few minutes before Bai’s opening up a door in the hall, waving me in with an excited, “Come on, come on!” Still, I take my time, stepping into the artificially regulated temperature, much warmer than the outside.

Bai shrugs off the light jacket she’s been wearing, then looks at me like she expects the same. The temperature hasn’t gotten to me yet, so I just undo the front buttons.

“So anyway,” she says, tossing her arms out to the side, “this is the greenhouse. Pretty, huh?”

I look around. It’s less of a greenhouse and more of an indoor garden. Plants peak up from all sorts of pots, flowers blooming this way and that. Some vines even crawl over the roof, which is made with the same partially cloudy glass as the walls.

Bai’s already ahead of me, not even waiting for an answer to her question. Her fingers dance across leaves and flower petals, checking on the inhabitants of her little plant world.

“This is actually one of the greenhouses we have,” she says. “It’s the smallest one we have, but it’s my favorite. The climate’s set to summer, so it’s always cozy. Though I’m sure they’ll switch it around on me eventually.”

I follow Bai along little paths, winding through plants this way and that. I brush up against them more than once, but I guess it’s not too bad of a thing. After all, I can tell just by watching her how protective she is.

“If you have so much passion for this stuff, why don’t you try harder so you can actually do something with it?” I ask.

Bai stops and turns back to me. I almost expect her to get angry. I’m almost angry for her. Something about watching people not even try. I grit my teeth, inhaling through my nose. It’s been a while since I’ve actually been this agitated.

But Bai only smiles. “Not this time,” she says. “I did all the talking last time. Last two times actually. So—” she pulls her finger away from a blossom, instead directing it at me “—it’s your turn now.”

I guess I should have seen this coming. I close my eyes and try to just let the annoyance slide off. It isn’t simple, but it does manage to work. “Okay,” I allow, reestablishing eye contact, “what do you want to know?”

Bai continues her tour of the garden. I have to keep following her, otherwise I can’t properly hear her voice. “Okay, okay, I get that you work for some company,” she says. Each of her steps is an unnecessary jump. “But what all do you do?”

I grimace. Out of all the boring topics. “Not much,” I admit. “I just started working for them this summer. I fill out paperwork and answer emails that get sent my way. If I’m lucky, I get to run some reports for a higher up when they have a big project due. It’s nothing special.”

We take another turn. It’s a clearing. The ground’s nothing more than concrete, and there’s just a bench in the middle, looking completely out of place. Bai goes to sit down, and I see her backpack sitting on the ground. This is probably one of her usual places to study then.

And she’s instead spending her time with me. Brilliant.

“Yeah, but what’s the company actually _do_?” Bai pats the bench beside her. There’s enough space so we can both sit down without touching. “Companies don’t just sit around and file paperwork for no reasons.”

I drop my elbow onto the metal armrest almost a little bit too hard. “Energy,” I answer. “Its basis is in providing and developing new outlets for energy. There are projects into all sorts of things, like new energy and lightning and…”

“Oh, oh, oh!” Bai nearly smacks me in the face as she jumps forward. “I heard that. You actually sounded excited for a minute.” I’m almost impressed she could actually tell. “So what is it? Tell me about it.”

I let myself smile a bit. “I don’t remember you answering anything terribly personal last time,” I counter. “Pick something else.”

Bai immediately bounces back, returning to her original position on the bench. “Fine then. Anything exciting happening lately? Sure, sure, you push paperwork around, but surely that has to get somewhere. So any breakthroughs, or…?”

Is she actually interested or just being polite? Either way, she did pick something else to talk about so I guess I can go along with it. “There’s not much I can actually say, you know. Even if we did do anything, I can’t just go telling whoever. And besides, I don’t really have much influence, so it’s not like they’re my accomplishments, either.” I grimace. I knew it would be like this, but it’s still not something I like thinking about. “But if you want something exciting, I guess we’re having someone transfer from overseas. They’re part of this Italian car company or something. I’m supposed to show them around when they arrive.”

“Heh, a foreigner for real?” Bai folds her arms behind her head and leans farther back. I only stare at her grin. “Sorry, I just can’t imagine that sort of stuff, way beyond my scope of thinking. Unless we’re talking about plants…” I breathe out a chuckle. It’s shortsighted, but it’s almost amusing. “But still, don’t sound so down. They asked you to do something, so that’s good right?”

My smile only makes the shift in my muscles to a frown more obvious. “Not really,” I say. There’s a bite in my voice, but Bai doesn’t even flinch. “It just means that I don’t have anything better to do to them.”

“Yeah, but you’re still there,” Bai says. She almost looks impressed. “You just probably care a lot more about the things you like than I do. That’s why you can endure things you don’t like.” Her eyes drift downward. “I can’t get through a little bit even if it’s something I love.”

I can feel the words itching to get off my tongue. _Why don’t you try harder?_ I don’t ask it, though. I agreed that it wasn’t going to be about her. I made the rule that it wasn’t supposed to be anything personal.

But Bai isn’t saying anything either. And the thing that’s been bothering me the most…

“Why are you so interested in me?”

Because I haven’t done anything special. Not at all.

“That’s cheating,” Bai scolds, “this is supposed to be about you. But fine.” She takes a deep breath and sets her hands in her lap. The fabric of her pants bends as she grips onto them. “Because I guess coincidences are really just small moments. So if you take a lot of small moments and put them together, don’t they build up into a big moment?”

I don’t really get it. Maybe that’s why I keep going. “Why not just look out for big moments instead?” I ask. “That has to be less of a hassle.” Bai only chuckles. Gives me a sideways glance.

“Do you have time for those?” she counters.

My routine crosses my mind. I have work. I have keeping in shape and staying alive and checking in with my family on occasion. I might have the advantage by ignoring my coworkers’ attempts at socialization, but it still feels busy, like life in the city is on fast forward in comparison to the life I had at home.

I’m silent. Bai nods, like she understands.

“Neither do I.”


	5. 5. Fēiyàn Cǎo

**Xiān Kè Lái**

By: Aviantei

[Shibuya Operation—Story Storm]

5\. Fēiyàn Cǎo

* * *

On a Saturday afternoon, the sun manages to erase any traces of autumn and approaching winter. My grandfather’s probably having a conniption back home, filling everyone else’s ears with news of whatever omens this means. I’m a bit disappointed that I can’t actually remember, but at the same time it doesn’t matter.

The only thing this really means to me is that I can go for a run outside without tearing my lungs apart.

There’s a big difference between the natural ground and treadmills. Sure, with technology, anything’s possible, from adjusting your angle to creating a dynamic terrain. But no digital image will ever replace the experience of having the wind move past you, of actually experiencing the sights with your own eyes, of the shifting smell of the real world environment.

I start from my apartment with no real destination in mind. The weather hasn’t been decent enough to do this in a while, but I still recognize the streets as I jog on the sidewalks o out of the way areas, trying to avoid any clusters of crowds I see coming. Once or twice I encounter a building I haven’t seen before, but it’s not long until I get back to familiar environment.

In the end, I make it to the city’s park. Most of the leaves have changed from green to their autumnal mix, and the usual grass looks darker, less than healthy but still kicking. I’m not the only person taking advantage of the weather, and every type of person imaginable is there, from businessmen to parents with their children to couples.

And to university students practically snoring in the sunlight, open textbooks on their chests.

I almost keep going past her. This is nothing more than a coincidence, one I’m not so sure Bai would appreciate. She already made me agree to meet up with her later in the week for more of her “small moment” shindigs.

_Hey, this is a great coincidence. Let’s not waste it._

_That’s ‘cause he doesn’t worry about that kind of stuff. He just goes with the flow._

I slow down to jog in a circle, letting my muscles cool down. I probably look ridiculous, but it doesn’t matter. I’d rather be laughed at than unnecessarily damage my body. There’s a water fountain not too far off and I head towards it, properly hydrating myself before heading back.

With the patterns on her shirt and the bright pink of her capris, she looks like a flowerbed, copy and pasted out of summer yet still miraculously surviving. I crouch down beside her, almost expecting her to sit up in an attempt to provide a jump scare. She doesn’t, just dozes on peacefully, an arm keeping the pages of her textbook from losing place and getting caught up in the breeze.

It’s a History text. I was expecting something relating to her major, but I guess she has to have a wide range of subjects to finish her degree.

It would probably be better to just let her sleep. Instead I shake her shoulder, and Bai’s face immediately scrunches up. “Come on,” I say, my tone hard, “you always make me go out of the way to indulge your coincidences. The least you can do is the same for me.”

One brown eye finally cracks open, and Bai smiles a bit. “Okay, this one’s your fault,” she says, still sounding drowsy. “You sure you’re not doing this on purpose? Because I think you are.”

I adjust how I’m sitting, putting a bit of distance between us, legs crossed. Bai sits up and stretches, her palms open, accepting the sunlight. After a bit, she drops her arms with a satisfied “Ah~” and closes her textbook with her knees.

“So enthralling it put you right to sleep, huh?” I taunt.

Bai looks at her book, shrugs, and tosses it aside, next to her backpack. I’m surprised she didn’t get robbed just snoring like that. “More like I’ve heard about the same stuff so many times I can’t care about it even if I tried,” she retorts. I don’t fully comprehend the feeling. “But forget that stuff. What brings you here?”

I look at my clothes like it’s not obvious. Bai keeps giving me the same misunderstanding look, and I sigh. “I went out for a run.”

Bai’s eyes scan over my outfit all over again. “Are you serious?” she insists.

“I really don’t see your issue.”

Her entire demeanor shifts, putting more than the necessary effort into sending an accusing finger in my direction. “Okay, fine, your shirt’s sleeveless. But if you run around in full pants you’re just going to overheat yourself.” I suppose she has a point. Still, I’ve always worked out like this, so I’m just used to it. “Though you did put your hair up, so I guess that’s probably why you haven’t over boiled. Looks better than the usual spike look you got going on.”

I unconsciously move a hand to my hair, put up in a ponytail. I started growing it out during college, and wasn’t able to style it to tongari as easily. Instead, I clipped up bits to match my sister, leaving the rest down. It’s one of the few things I actually picked up from my father—that styling hair this way was beneficial for focusing chi during meditation.

I don’t think any amount of words will be able to make Bai understand without her erupting into laughter. Instead, I set her in my most defiant gaze and respond, “I _like_ my spikes.”

Bai immediately snorts and falls back into the grass.

“_Besides_,” I press on, because if I don’t, I’ll never hear the end of it, “your hairstyle doesn’t exactly respect the laws of gravity, either.” I don’t think I’ve ever once seen her without hairclips propping up her locks. “So in that respect, we’re equals. I don’t wanna hear it.”

Bai’s hand flaps through the air. “Right, right,” she says. “It wasn’t about what you said though, but _how_ you said it.” Her voice automatically increases in pitch, adding a whine to her words. “‘_I like my spikes!_’ Like a little kid really.”

Even growling can’t possibly cover up the fact that my face immediately starts to heat up.

I haven’t blushed in _years_.

Bai’s laughter hasn’t faded, still existing in the form of a snicker. “Got a little sunburn?” she asks.

“_Regardless_,” I stress, hoping that the rest of my sentence will form now that I’ve provided the first word. Bai watches me expectantly, sitting back up. She leaves the grass that’s clinging to her clothes stay in place. “It’s your turn to pick the topic,” I supply. “That is how this whole mess works, right?”

Bai’s smile falls into place. “Yeah, I guess it is. Hmm…” Her fingers tap out an uneven rhythm in the dirt. “How about it? Got any plans for the upcoming holiday?”

I think, my mental calendar supplying the dates. There isn’t really anything going on soon, so I can only assume she’s referring to Christmas, which is a whole month away. I’ve only been focusing on work, so it didn’t occur to me.

“Probably the same thing as always—head back home for a few days and get smothered by my family.” Though the ones doing the most smothering will be my mother and Jun. If anything, my grandfather’s going to give me a welcome kick, and my father will be as awkward as always. “Nothing too exciting in any event. Why? I assume you have some wild plan in place then.”

Bai shakes her head, her hair swishing in little waves. Any more force and I feel like her hairclips and bobby pins might fall out. “My family doesn’t really do anything together anymore, so I’m going to be spending Christmas ordering a pizza and sitting at home.”

It sounds like a rather unexciting way to spend a holiday. Then again, to each their own. If it weren’t for my family I’d probably stay in, too, minus the pizza part. And I wouldn’t call the traditions of the rest of my friends exactly within the given grain, either—hanging out with their fiancées, holding festivals, sitting at home with a teacup, visiting graves. So if that’s what Bai wants to do it’s her business.

She forces out a sharp exhale. “So I guess I’m the boring one, huh?” she says. “Then again, I don’t know what a family gathering is like, so it could be boring for you, too.” I get the feeling she’s not really getting ready for a denial or confirmation on my part, so I just wait. “Man, why can’t it be the New Year yet? At least with the festivals it’s hard to get bored straight bonkers.”

“Sniveling doesn’t suit you,” I assess.

Bai slaps the ground hard enough that I’m surprised she doesn’t leave an imprint. “Am not!” she protests. “Do you see any snot? No! Don’t you go and just make up things however you want.”

Despite her words, she doesn’t sound angry, just worked up all over again. It’s pretty much the reaction I was hoping for. Bai tosses a bit of her bangs to the side, imitating a pout. Though she tries to avoid looking at me, her eyes wander back in close enough intervals to be called frequent.

“What I was saying,” I say, “was that you don’t need that sort of mindset right now.” I gesture to her book and bag on her other side. “You’re a college student. Work should be your priority, right?” I stand up. “And I should be getting back home soon.” There are still other things I would like to do today, and an unplanned endeavor is unnecessary. I’m still surprised I did it. “So get back to work,” I conclude.

Bai shakes her head, but she’s smiling. “Stuck up,” she teases.

Still, she opens up her book again, flipping through the pages and trying to find her last spot. I stretch out a bit, watching her eyes drift lazily across the page. Within minutes I’m ready to go again, plotting out my way home.

_But still…_

I realize that I’m tired of waiting for coincidences, too.

Without even considering how ridiculous I’m being, I recite my phone number.

“Um, Ren,” Bai says, “I hate to tell you this, but this is _history_. Not math, okay?” She looks up to me, and I make sure to maintain eye contact. “Sheesh, you tell me to study, then distract me like that. Is this some sort of concentration test or something?”

I don’t even take her bait. “I just told you my phone number,” I respond instead. “I’m almost offended that you’re not even bothering to try and write it down.”

It takes a second, but the words finally register with Bai. She goes for her backpack, producing a partway crumpled piece of paper and a cheap pen. “One more time.”

Once the numbers are down, she recites her own to me. I don’t have my phone on me, nor do I have anything to write with. My pants don’t have pockets, so that eliminates the possibility of carrying a note back. I settle for memorization and hope I retain it back to my apartment.

And with exchanges of “I’ll see you on Thursday,” I depart, leaving Bai to her history book.

I’ve trained myself well enough that I don’t lose a steady rhythm while running, even if my mind is preoccupied. I have to take a few detours from my intended route because of crowds again, but that doesn’t matter I go home on autopilot.

What was that?

_What just happened?_

I haven’t given my phone number to anyone since I became acquainted with Joco while I was in America.

_Why did I do that again?_

In any case, it doesn’t matter. I can’t exactly take it back. Besides, if Bai ends up wanting to make spontaneous plans, I might be able to diverge her. Or maybe I’ll have the chance to do something else out of the ordinary instead.

When I get home, I find I don’t have any need to remember Bai’s number because she’s already messaged me.

_[Hey, Ren. I just wanted to mention something I didn’t get to say—I was completely caught off guard! You actually gave me your number without trying to ask. Mister Big and Scary and Antisocial isn’t so antisocial anymore, huh? Anyway, I’ll get back to studying, so I’ll see you later!]_

I can’t help it. I crack a smile and add her number to my contacts—mixed in with the names of my family (sans Grandfather) and my other few friends. Though she’ll definitely be getting an earful about the ‘big and scary’ part when we meet up again.

Still, there’s something else I want to ask that can’t really wait. Almost rustily, I move my fingers across the buttons on my phone.

_[Do you want to come over to my place for Christmas?]_


	6. 6. Wàn Shòu Jú

**Xiān Kè Lái**

By: Aviantei

[Shibuya Operation—Story Storm]

6\. Wàn Shòu Jú

* * *

“It’s a goddamn castle.”

It’s the first time I’ve heard a curse word slip out of Bai’s mouth. Of course, she’s in so much awe I don’t really think all too much about it. I told her brief summary of my family’s state—once upon a time we were fortune tellers and shamans, highly respected. I left out some of the more gruesome bits. We had enough of an income to have our own estate and castle, an income that my grandfather has stretched out into restoration projects that’ll keep the thing standing far into my own old age.

Still, inside the car, Bai’s mouth hangs open, jaw slacked.

“All of this? For five people?” she asks.

“And the hired help,” I correct. There’s no guarantee that my perspective will even vaguely match up with hers, but I gesture to the west wing. “It’s a bit of a trip out here, so we have that whole area set up as a place for them to stay. Most of them work a few days, then head home for their days off.”

Bai’s eyes only get wider, as if the idea of housekeepers is entirely foreign to her. I already know that that sort of thing is enough to set most people off, but I didn’t expect it to be the thing that would actually get Bai Cuì Jú to actually shut up for once.

There’s a moment before she finally tears her eyes away from the window and looks at me instead. “So cool,” she adds in an almost whisper.

Her expression isn’t exactly awe, but I can’t see any other word to describe it.

“Man, being out in a place like this is probably super cool. Plus you’re out in the mountains—that’s a whole handful of different genus to explore. Oh, oh, we’re pretty far from the airport and city, too, so I bet the air’s super clean! Hey, can I open the window? I wanna see what it smells like.”

I can’t help but smirk, her reaction fueling my pride. “Not unless you intend to freeze us both,” I shut down. “It will only take a few more minutes until we get there. Just wait until then.”

Bai pouts, then nods, her smile taking back over her face in second. She bounces her leg instead.

True to her word, the first thing Bai does once she steps out of the car is take a deep breath of air. I do the same, letting it fill up my lungs. We stand together, simply breathing. It is completely different from the city, no smoke, no pollution. Just fresh air, cold and biting, completely pure.

Bai lets out a happy exhale. “Amazing,” she says.

I definitely agree. “It’s cold out,” I say instead. “We should get inside.”

In actuality, it doesn’t bother me at all. I could probably stay outside for hours. I think Bai could, too, even if her ears and cheeks are already turning red from the chill. Besides, I’d rather have the introductions to my family be on my terms as opposed to theirs.

We walk into the house together. Bai’s eyes keep jumping around all over the place as she tries to take everything in, I’m guessing from the entranceway to the tile work. Considering I lived here almost my entire life, maybe I’m just a bit numb to the effect.

Once I manage to get her through the entranceway, I raise a hand in greeting. My mother and sister step forward, and I can tell they’re analyzing Bai, trying to figure it out. After all, this is the first girl I’ve ever brought home. Ever.

I told them on the phone that she was just a friend that needed a place to stay for the holiday, but the expressions on their faces are absolute proof that they don’t believe me.

“Bai,” I say, putting maybe a little too much emphasis on the fact that I’m using her family name, “this is my mother, Tao Ran.” I raise a hand in indication, then move it on. “And my older sister, Tao Jun.”

Human interaction seems to have done nothing to make Bai’s wonder disperse. In fact, it seems to have worsened it. “Wow,” she almost whispers, “you’re both so pretty.”

My mother almost has to repress a giggle behind her sleeve.

“And this,” I continue, patting Bai’s shoulder, “is Bai Cuì Jú.” The usual round of pleasantries is exchanged between them, and all three women have smiles on their faces. After some small talk, Jun redirects her gaze to me. More specifically, to my hand. I drop it to my side, almost a bit too quickly.

Jun’s lips don’t smirk, but her eyes certainly do.

“It’s good to see you again, Ren,” she says, having the decency to keep her ill conclusions to herself. “I’m sorry it’s just and me and Mom for the welcoming party. Grandfather’s locked himself up, insisting on reading fortunes since we’re having company over. Oh, no offense, though.”

Bai shakes her head. It’s probably a good thing I gave her a debriefing beforehand. “Not at all,” she says, slipping into conversation like into a worn, good pair of socks. “It’s traditional, right? I completely understand. Plus, this is kinda sudden… I’m not being a burden am I?” She puts a hand to the back of her head, ruffling her own hair nervously. _Is that…humility?_

“Of course not,” my mother cuts in. For us hardly ever having company over, she’s quite the hostess. “Though I’m sorry both Zhang and Yúan are otherwise…ah, preoccupied.” She looks to me, almost sad. “Don’t take it personally, Ren. Your father is just being…”

“…Father,” I finish for her, adding in a shrug. I’m used to his behavior by now.

“Yes…” She doesn’t look reassured in the slightest. I guess there’s nothing I can do about it. The smile she puts on instead is almost faked. “Still, let’s not worry about it. We’ll all sit down for dinner together later. Instead, why don’t you tell us how you’ve been? You, too, Jun. It’s been so different with both of you out of the house; we should really catch up and—”

“Mother.” I try not to sound too harsh when I interrupt her. “Don’t you think we should let Bai settle in first?”

Mother lets out a soft “oh,” and Bai tries to play it off like she doesn’t want to interrupt. “Nonsense,” Jun says, taking my side, even if I don’t like her intentions, “you’re a guest here. We have a whole weekend, surely we can spare an hour for you to settle in, Cuì Jú.” She puts a hand on Mother’s arm, leading her out of the room. “Come on, Mom, we can chat for a bit—I’m sure Ren doesn’t want to be subjected to girl talk. Besides, there’s this one guy—”

Thankfully, the door closes before the conversation continues.

“They seem nice,” Bai says. “Must be nice to have such an energetic family.”

Energetic is putting it nicely. So is eccentric. There is no _nice_ way to word it, so I keep the thought to myself. “Come on,” I say, shrugging her over to the stairs. “The residential areas are on the third floor.”

“Okay.” Bai follows behind me. When we pass up the entrance to the third floor, I hear her footsteps come to a halt, her voice echoing up behind me in their place. “Um, Ren…?”

I don’t stop. “I’ll show you your room later. There’s something I want you to see first.”

Silence. Then she’s jumping up the stairs again, not slowing down until she’s by my side. “Huh? A surprise? For real? This better not be a gift or anything, because I completely didn’t buy you anything. I thought you wouldn’t be the gift-giving type, so…”

“I’m not,” I confirm, and Bai pumps her fist in a small moment of victory. “It’s just something I thought you’d like to see, that’s all. Besides, if I don’t show you around the castle, Mother will. At the very least, you deserve the time to enjoy this.”

Finally, I stop, and exit the stairwell. We’re in the second tier of the castle now. Not losing pace, I continue down the hallway. Bai manages to keep at my side, shifting her neck, probably trying to figure out just which room we’re going to go into. I can practically hear her processing speed running at one-hundred kilometers per hour.

When we stand in front of the door, Bai’s bouncing on the balls of her feet. “You ready?” I ask.

She looks to me. “Want me to close my eyes?” she teases.

There’s no need for that. I open up the door and gesture for her to go inside, following after her. A few steps in, she freezes in place. I stand beside her, watching her expression forming into the same awestruck one as before.

And then she’s off.

Bai rushes into the garden, running up to every plant in sight. She brushes her fingers against leaves and flowers and stems, all while running her mouth at the same time. “Whoa, this is amazing. Incredible! Look at all of them—Ren, what’re your biosphere settings? Hey, wait, wait, wait, _wait_, are these Acer pentaphyllum? These are endangered! Ah, I can’t believe I’m seeing them in person. Man, I wanna take one home!”

I find one of the bigger trees to rest against, letting Bai do her thing. The original purpose of the garden was to grow necessary ingredients for the ancient Taos’ poisons, but Bai doesn’t need to know that. In one of Grandfather’s refurbishing sprees, Mother had the place renovated into a more pleasant year-around garden, using some of her influence to help out with rare and endangered species.

It’s really the perfect place for Bai.

I lose track of time. Bai disappears deeper into the foliage, so I go to follow her. She keeps talking, but I don’t really think she wants me to answer. In fact, because of what she said before, I know she isn’t just trying to hear the sound of her own voice.

I think she just wants someone to listen.

So I do, even if I don’t understand half of it. I get buried in a stream of scientific names and caretaking habits, and there are at least two-dozen things Bai’s asked me to remember that I don’t even know if she’s going to ask about later. Still, I do my best, forgetting about company reports and numbers, replacing them with flower petals.

After she’s satisfied, Bai plops down onto the ground. The renovations went so far as to bring in live grass and soil to the garden, so it’s not an uncomfortable place to sit. I walk over to her, about to ask how she liked it, but Bai opens her mouth first.

“Hey, Ren, can you listen to me for a while?” she asks.

I sit down, immediately going into my stance for meditation. “You’ve been doing nothing but talk since we got in here,” I say.

And she understands that I’m agreeing.

“Okay, so, Mom used to grow these potted plants all the time. I dunno, she seemed like she wanted more than one kid, but you know how that is. And, well, we lived in an apartment that wouldn’t let us keep pets. But there was all this space, so she filled the place up with them.

“She taught me how to take care of them, too, so I could help. I was a teenager by then. Without meaning to, I started to get into it. Like, Mom would just go ahead, buy whatever, and write down little sticky notes based on what the shop keep told her and that was that. Whatever was enough to keep them alive.

“But I did more than that. I started learning more, their scientific names, what families they belonged to. Plants are actually kind of like people. They may need the same base things, but each plant likes to be treated differently. So I tweaked Mom’s notes so they wouldn’t just live, but _grow_.

“I went crazy learning their meanings, too. I would make arrangements for my friends’ birthdays and such, and each flower would be somehow connected to them.

“In the end, I think I spent more time with the plants than Mom did. I ended up breeding them, too. The first seed I got, I planted and grew it, kept it in my room on my desk, took it into the living room every now and then so it would get enough light. It didn’t wilt or anything. I was so proud.”

She pauses. A river halting for a damn before it builds up pressure and breaks right through, faster than ever.

“And then one day I come home and the pots are smashed up. The door was locked so no one broke in. I still just fell over and cried. All my hard work was torn up. Most of them died. Even the flower I had grown on my own was crushed. Sure, other things were torn up—the furniture, some clothes, but all I cared about were the plants.

“Later I found out Dad had some break down or another. He had to go to the hospital and did some counseling after that. Something or another from being in the Cultural Revolution. Mom came home and swept up the dirt and the pots like it meant nothing to her. We didn’t get any more plants after that.

“We weren’t the same, either. The distance only got worse when I moved out to start school. So I guess that was where it ended. Why I don’t have a family.”

I wait, but Bai is silent. She doesn’t look like she’s about to cry, even though her voice isn’t hollow. She talks like it’s fact, even if she’s still sad about it.

I don’t know what to do. I’ve been told secrets by others before—things I know they would rather forget. But their intentions were clear: I want you to know this, I want you to give me advice, I just want to talk so don’t say anything and forget I did, too. Bai hasn’t stated any of that. She’s only provided statements.

So I guess that the choice of what comes next is up to me.

“Well,” I say, “do you have any plants now?” Bai stiffens. “You have an apartment, right? Do you keep any there?”

“I…” Bai rests an arm across her forehead, dropping a shadow over her eyes but not covering them. “No, I don’t. I couldn’t do it. I just… I take care of the plants at school, but it’s not… Oh, god, it’s not the same…”

I get it. Not the exact situation, but I get it. There are memories—bad ones, but good ones, too. And I definitely learned that one doesn’t eclipse the other. They come together, make the experience.

“I’ll buy you one then.” Bai’s eyes widen, sending the skin on her forehead crashing into her arm, wrinkling. “But I don’t know a thing about this sort of stuff. So you’ll have to come with me and pick one out.”

_If you don’t have the courage to do it on your own, then I’ll do it for you._

Her mouth hangs open. Slowly, she closes her eyes. She smiles.

Her lips form the word “Thanks.”

Her hand fists in the grass, almost tearing it up by the roots.

Mine stay resting at my sides.


	7. 7. Cìhuái

**Xiān Kè Lái**

By: Aviantei

[Shibuya Operation—Story Storm]

7\. Cìhuái

* * *

At the dinner table, my father is less awkward. Maybe it’s because he doesn’t have to talk directly _to_ me. Things go without much hassle, as Bai, Jun, and I are all subject to recounting our lives, what we’ve been up to, what life’s like away from home, what our plans are for the New Year—for the second night in a row. My mother treats Bai almost like her own daughter, and Grandfather Zhang is as loud as ever.

En avoids running into me in the halls.

Jun, on the other hand, practically corners me in them. She doesn’t look as serious as she could be, but I can tell she won’t give in until she’s thoroughly pestered me.

“_Yes_?” I ask, hoping she’ll just get it over with. There are other things I have to spend my time on tonight.

“What’s going on with you and Bai?” she asks, right out the gate. At least my sister and I know how to get to the point. “You haven’t said anything at all, and I don’t want to assume. But Mother wants to know, so…are you two dating or not? You don’t have to hide it from us.”

I sigh. I’m too used to my sister to get mad at her over something like this. I fold my arms across my chest. “I already told you: she’s a friend. She just has some circumstances, so I decided to invite her over,” I say, as if _circumstances_ can even begin to cover it.

Jun’s expression doesn’t change. “So how did a businessman manage to make friends with a university student?”

I almost snort. Thinking about it, _she_ made friends with _me_ instead. And that was all just a chain of ridiculous coincidences, the kind I couldn’t have even thought to predict. Grandfather would probably call it some sort of fate or divine intervention.

_I definitely can’t tell him about it._

“Can’t this wait until another time, Jun?” I ask. It’s winter, so the sky’s already going to be dark at this hour. I don’t want to wait too long. Jun frowns a bit, as if I’ve been ignoring her this whole time. “We’re heading back to the city tomorrow; it’s a long trip. I’d like to get some rest.” Jun doesn’t protest immediately, so I take that as permission to leave.

I try not to make it too obvious that I’m heading up to Bai’s room, just in case Jun decides that she needs to follow me. When the coast seems clear enough, I rap my knuckles against the wood. Bai opens up the door almost immediately, a flower patterned scarf wound around her neck.

I’m almost excited to go out and buy her a plant. She’s coated in artificial ones anyway. Real ones would suit her much better.

“Okay, so what’s the surprise?” she asks. Bai’s eyes dart up and down across me, like she’s trying to see if I’m hiding anything behind my back. I adjust so that she can see my empty palms. “Come on, it has to be something special. Lemme guess, you actually have a rainforest in one of your other buildings, and we’re gonna go see it.”

“Not quite,” I answer. I turn down the hall and wave a hand for her to follow. Bai falls into place beside me after closing the door to her room. “Something more to my tastes, okay? Though I think you’ll like it anyway.”

We head up the stairs again. It’s definitely a long trek, but I used to do it all the time, so I’m used to it. And Bai has her science building to scale all the time, even if it’s shorter. She hasn’t looked winded all weekend, so she’s just fine.

She puts a finger to her chin, putting on a frown of contemplation. “Oh, something Ren likes?” The finger taps out a quiet but fast paced rhythm. “What could that be? You don’t talk about yourself all that much, so I don’t know. Guess I’m gonna learn something new tonight, huh?”

“Lightning,” I say.

Admittedly, the whole point of what I’m doing was to open up to her—Bai spilled herself to me last night, so I should return the favor. And while I’m not sure how much I’m going to talk about, I still want to at least answer the question she asked me a while ago.

Bai looks at me, but maintains an anticipatory silence.

“I like lightning,” I continue, “and thunder. Even back when I was a little brat. All the other kids were scared of the stuff, but I liked storms. I watched them out my window when I was supposed to be asleep. I guess I wanted to stay close to them.”

This time, Bai does give her input. “‘Close’?” she prompts.

“The company I work for. Like I said, they do energy research. And some of their projects include trying to utilize lightning into an active energy source. They even have theoretical builds for artificial environments that could reproduce the effects of storms—a constant output. It’s not even close to being considered practical or possible, but if I could work on something like that…”

We take the last set of stairs and step into the cold. The topmost accessible floor is actually entirely open, letting us see the entire mountain range around us. Bai shivers, but follows me as I walk to the edge. I put my hands on the bannister, leaning into the crisp breeze. “Out there. When it storms, the mountains crackle with energy almost…like the sky and the earth actually get to touch.”

Bai smiles softly, her features a bit difficult to make out in the dark. “Hate to break it to you, Ren,” she teases, “but it’s not storming right now.”

“Don’t be stupid,” I criticize. My mother would slaughter me if I came up here in a storm and brought Bai with me. “Look up why don’t you?”

Bai does as she’s told. I follow her gaze. In the sky, there are endless stars, pure white against pure black. No air pollution, no lights to block them out. Just pure space and night, only interrupted by the condensation of Bai’s breath when she gasps.

She doesn’t have to say anything. We’re both thinking the same thing.

_It’s beautiful._

“I like the stars, too,” I say. “You don’t really get to see them in the city, so I bet this is new to you.” Bai nods, her eyes filled with stars. “I miss this. I almost forgot that not everywhere gets a view by this, so I was shocked when I moved. Almost disgusted really. Maybe it was Zhang that made me think about it, but I learned to appreciate stars and nature when I was younger.”

We breathe for a bit. “You’re being more open than usual,” Bai finally speaks. “What’s this about? We don’t need to be even for yesterday if that’s what you’re worried about. I told you because I wanted to. Don’t force yourself.”

I let out a scoff, though it’s not heartfelt. “Don’t think so self-centeredly,” I reprimand. Still, she did catch onto part of my reasoning. “If I felt like I needed to repay you and didn’t want to talk about myself, I’d find another way to do it.”

Bai laughs softly. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t intend to go on for long, either. You’ll have to settle for the abridged version.” I pause. Here goes nothing. “I was kind of a bully as a kid. I grew up with money and status. I was smart, too. When some kids tried to pick on me, I was strong enough to fight back. So I ended up thinking the way to avoid all that was to be the person doing the picking instead.

“I was like that all the way to university. I studied abroad around that time. I met some people, and they changed me. One of them was a complete idiot. But he did what he wanted, trying to get an easy life. Somehow, they changed me.”

I think about Asakura for a second.

“And that’s how I ended up the way I am now. The end.”

It’s nowhere near as dramatic as Bai’s story. It’s not even close to being on the same level. But it’s the only equivalent I have without getting into it anymore—about my childhood, about my father. I almost expect her to call me out. And maybe a part of me wants that.

Bai finally looks at me. “Man, you studied abroad, too?” she asks. “How cool can you get?”

I let myself relax. Her atmosphere is the same, really. “It’s not that impressive,” I counter. “Plenty of people do it.”

Bai whacks my arm lightly. “Well it’s out of my reach, okay? Be more sensitive, will ya?” Her hands place support on the railing and she leans out a bit, trying to catch a better view. “But yeah. People can change other people…I like the sound of that.”

It sounds like a private thought. I chose not to comment.

Still, her hand scoots closer toward mine, just a few centimeters down the railing. I stare for a second, then look up as Bai lets out a happy gasp. “Check it out!” she says, pointing out into the distance. If it had been the one closer to me, she would have smacked me in the face. “Man, the moon’s so bright…you can see everything. Hey, what’s that species of tree out there, there’s a few of them.”

I chuckle. Somehow, even though the moon somewhat obscures the stars, the view manages to be enjoyable.


	8. 8. Liánhuā

**Xiān Kè Lái**

By: Aviantei

[Shibuya Operation—Story Storm]

8\. Liánhuā

* * *

I get called to my boss’s office before I leave. The coworker in the cubicle next to mine tries to give me an encouraging thumbs up with a less than convincing smile on his face. I’m not too worried. I haven’t don’t anything wrong, so it’s not like I’ll be fired. It’s more likely that I’ll be given some other menial task to add onto my work pile.

I stand in front of the door. Place two knocks on the wood. Once I get a response, I step inside.

Kuang sits at his desk, and waves a hand for me to come inside. I step in, closing the door behind me. An almost casual man of formalities, Kuang waits for me to stand in front of him before speaking. “Tao,” he says, a light smile on his face, “you’ve been doing some good things since you’ve got here. I’m impressed. It’s more than I expected when we hired you, in fact.”

“Thank you, sir.”

I keep my expression neutral, but I still feel excited. True, his words are glorifying the truth—I’ve only been working on several minor projects, and the only thing impressive about that is I’ve taken on a larger bulk than the rest of my coworkers. Still, there’s a chance.

“Don’t be so uptight,” Kuang criticizes. “We need creativity and flexibility in this business. Still, hard work and determination are important characteristics, too. So at this point I think it’s best if you were to work as an assistant under Lu.”

My heartbeat doesn’t stop, but it does falter. Lu Yong. One of the researchers upstairs, whose name is plastered on half of the papers I read through outside of work hours. Someone we grunt workers hardly get to see.

If this is a serious offer…

“Of course, the type of work you would be involved with wouldn’t change much,” Kuang continues. I’m only half listening. “You’d still have to organize files and the like, and you’d probably still spend time on some of the projects we gave you before. But there’s a certain benefit to working so close to the real deal, now isn’t there?”

He makes eye contact, waiting for me to actually say something.

“But what about the foreigner?” I ask, forgetting all sense of formality. Kuang doesn’t seem to mind. “I was supposed to show them around. Will I have time for that now?” It was a minor thing, but it was still a good opportunity. I don’t feel like wasting it so easily.

Kuang’s fingers manage to tap along the edge of his desk without seeming impatient. “Ah, yes. We were recently informed that there were some developments in a project that the ambassador was involved in. It’s necessary for them to stay there for the time being.” I frown without meaning to. “The deal is still on, though, just pushed back. I decided to use this time to make you into a more capable ambassador yourself. Does that take out your worries, Tao?”

That’s all I needed to hear. An actual verbal acknowledgement of my potential. “I accept,” I say, my voice teetering on the edge of sounding too eager.

Kuang chuckles. “I’m glad. We’ll see you on Monday then, Tao.”

Another casual wave of his hand dismisses me, and I manage to clock out on time in a daze. I manage to make it Bai’s apartment, though, and press the button for room 204. I expect to hear Bai’s voice to crackle into existence through the speaker, but the sound of the entrance unlocking meets my ears instead. Even her apartment door is unlocked when I turn the handle.

I sigh. “You’re too trusting,” I call out, closing the door behind me and hanging up my coat. The smell of flowers is almost overpowering, but it’s still present. I find Bai in the living room, a small watering can tipped over a hanging basket. “Someone’s gonna break in at this rate, you know.”

Bai shakes her head, setting the watering can on a small shelf of other gardening supplies—some pots, some soil, watering cans, fertilizer. “No way,” she says. “I only do it because you’re always on time. No one else is gonna press that buzzer exactly five minutes before we’re supposed to meet, and if they do, you’ll be there. Nothing to worry about at all.”

Bai settles down at the couch, her fingertips tracing over the leaves of the plant I bought her. It’s small and hasn’t even bloomed yet, but she said it was perfect. It pales in comparison to the at least twenty other plants she’s bought since January started—all bursting with flowers and colors and size—but I know she loves it just the same.

_Mainly because she never shuts up about it…_

“Hey, hey, you look a bit excited,” she says. “Something good happen?”

I sit down in the single armchair she has, perpendicular to the couch. “I got promoted today,” I answer. Bai’s eyes automatically light up in excitement. “Nothing too big, but I’m going to be working with some of the actual researchers from now on. Same workload, though.”

Bai giggles. “And I got to hear about it first? Man, Jun and Ran are gonna be so jealous.” She sits up a bit, completing her playtime with the small plant. “But still, you’re probably gonna get busier. Are we even gonna be able to spend time around each other anymore?”

“Are you really that worried?” Bai doesn’t give an answer right away, so I just continue on. “You’ve been spending more and more time studying lately, and we’re doing just fine. Stop fussing.” I’m almost impressed by her change in resolve since Christmas. “You figure anything out yet?”

This time, Bai lets out a soft sigh. “Just that adding an extra course to my workload is a bit more stressful than I thought it would be.” Her smile resurfaces. “But I’m kinda surprised. I thought my parents wouldn’t be all that happy that I was changing gears this late, but they’ve been pretty supportive.”

I want to ask more, but I don’t feel the need to overstep. We talk about all sorts of things, from the mundane to the important. Once we feel like we need to share, we will. If she doesn’t want to talk about what her parents’ exact words were, I won’t make her.

“But this is supposed to be fun,” Bai continues. She bounces up in her seat, hands resting on her thighs. “I guess it’s my turn to pick the conversation, so… Ren, do you have any particular flowers that you like?”

It’s definitely not a topic I’ve put much thought into. I consider saying asters, just to see her reaction. But she wants a serious answer, so I try to come up with one. “Lotuses,” I answer. “If I had to pick, that is.”

Bai tries to nod before her straight expression breaks into a small fit of laughs. “Are you serious?” she asks. “Admit it: you just like them because they’re a part of her name. That’s like me saying that asters are my favorite.”

I’m suddenly glad that I didn’t go through with my initial response.

But still, she isn’t completely wrong. At least their presence in my name is part of what reminded me. “Come on, you saw them,” I remind. “We have all those ponds on the grounds. When the weather’s right, they’re filled with lotuses. I used to spend a lot of free time out there when I was little, too, so maybe that’s why they stuck with me.”

“Okay, I’ll accept that.” Bai’s fingers start to toy around in a free lock of her hair. “Any others then?”

I return her eagerness with a small smirk. “What’s this for? Trying to build me a bouquet or something?”

She snorts. “You don’t have anywhere decent to set one up at your place, so no.” She rejected the idea much more naturally than I thought she would, though. “I just felt like asking about it. And I could talk for days about which flowers I like best, so I figured I’d let you get your say in first.”

She’s really gunning hard on this one. But there’s no harm in indulging her. “I don’t know,” I say, trying to buy some time. “__ I guess.”

“Hm.” For a second, Bai chews her lip. “Death flowers then.”

I shouldn’t, but I let out a small chuckle anyway. I don’t even have an excuse this time for why I picked them. “Of course that’s what they mean,” I say.

Bai doesn’t look disappointed in me though. “It’s okay,” she says. “To be honest, I like __ a lot, too.”

I’m almost surprised. She mentioned it before—just how much attention she put into learning flower meanings. I figured that she’d be the type to choose her favorites based on a combination of their meanings and looks. As if she’d ever be that methodological.

“Oh, I got it!” Bai exclaims. She lightly hits her fist against the free hand’s palm. “Let’s make a special bouquet. You know, four of ‘em, all red, put ‘em in a clock vase. Maybe we could find something designed with scissors, too, while we’re at it.”

I raise an eyebrow, inappropriately amused. It’s a bit crass of a joke for her.

“I’m just kidding. They don’t even grow in red,” she clears up, dropping her hands back to her lap. “But that’s not the point. I guess, sometimes it doesn’t matter what something means. It can still be beautiful, don’t you think?”


	9. 9. Kǎ'ěr nà

**Xiān Kè Lái**

By: Aviantei

[Shibuya Operation—Story Storm]

9\. Kǎ'ěr nà

* * *

I’m halfway through my morning routine of jogging when I realize that the route I usually take is blocked off. It’s early, but there’s the bustle of more people than usual. I’ve been absorbed in my new workload recently, so I must have forgotten about the date, even though everyone else at work has been chattering about their plans at every single free moment.

Today is the beginning of the New Year.

I make a beeline back to my apartment, then finish getting ready for the day. It’s a national holiday, so there’s a chance that Bai is sleeping in. Then again, I remember her talking about it before, the New Year festivals. Since I’m off from work, I don’t have anything else to do.

I pick up my cellphone and select her number from my contacts, the sound of the phone ringing against my ear.

_“G’morning,”_ Bai chirps through the phone, much more alert than I expected her to be. _“You’re up pretty early, Ren. And you’re the one calling me, too. I feel super honored!”_

I chose to ignore her last comment. “I could say the same about you,” I retort. “I thought you said you didn’t have morning classes. I figured that you’d be used to waking up later than this.”

Bai laughs as usual, her cheerfulness hardly diluted by the phone. _“Nope, you’re wrong. Since I got all these plants, I get up to water them. Plus I have to move some of them around so they get enough sunlight and stuff… But enough about that. What do I owe the pleasure of this call for?”_

“It’s the first time we’ve been free in a while,” I say. Between my workload and Bai’s renewed vigor for her classwork, what used to be weekly encounters have dwindled. “And the festivals start today. I’m not going to be doing anything else, so why don’t we go together?”

Come to think of it, I should probably have made plans to go home. My mother’s certainly called me enough times, but I haven’t had the chance to call her back. At this point, there’s no real reason to going back. I should just make use of what I have.

_“Oh, you remembered!”_ Bai cheers. I wonder if she’s disturbing her neighbors at all or if her walls are thick enough to prevent something like that from happening. _“Score! Yeah, let’s go out together. Wanna meet up by the station. I gotta get ready, but it won’t take that long.”_

We toss a few more words back and forth, and Bai hangs up before we can even properly set a time to meet up. She’s a bit more excited than I had intended for, but it’s almost satisfying. I’m already good to go, so I double check that I have everything I need and head for the station. I’m sure that Bai will rush through her routine without checking her phone, so it’s best to just get into position and wait.

The crowds are a different mix than usual. People aren’t dressed up for work, but for holiday. Half of the people that are usually on the streets are probably still at home, enjoying their respite from life. Even the tone of the crowd sounds altered, more upbeat. If it weren’t for the stench of cigarettes, it would feel like another city.

Within the hour, Bai shows up, shouting greetings at the top of her lungs. When she stops, she almost falls over from how sudden the drop in speed is. I manage to stop her from colliding with any passerby, but it still takes a bit to regain her balance.

“You do know if you take yourself out this early, you won’t be able to enjoy anything,” I say.

Bai only focuses on smoothing out her hair. “Hehe. It’s good to see you again, too.” Satisfied with her own appearance, she looks mine over. “Ran showed me pictures, but I didn’t expect you to wear traditional clothes today. It looks good on you, though.”

“Funny, I expected to see you all dressed up, too.”

Bai smooths out her dress with an amused look on her face. “Oh, were you looking forward to it?” I only shrug. Her flower patterned dress, pants, and scarf look just fine. I may have expected something more extravagant, but I suppose the large ornamental hairpiece hanging off the side of her head is plenty to make up for it. “Fine, fine, don’t answer. What do you want to see first then?”

“You go ahead and pick. You’re obviously more excited to run around than I am,” I say. Really, I’m used to celebrating these sorts of things at home, not that I did that while I was overseas much. This is my first New Year back in my home country, and I can’t even get into the spirit of it. “If I see something I want to do, then I’ll stop you.”

“Alright then.” Bai smirks. If it weren’t for the chill in the air, I’d suspect she’d be getting ready to roll up her sleeves. “But you better have the energy to go through it all, because when I festival, I festival hard, you got it?”

I level my eyes with hers. “That doesn’t even remotely make sense.”

Bai only wraps her hand around my wrist without a care in the world. “It will by the time I’m done with you,” she declares. And with that unconventional starting signal, she steps off with me in her wake.

Bai’s much better at weaving through crowds than I expected. Despite the heavy foot traffic, we keep up a decent pace. A few times we have to squeeze between other people, but it’s a lot easier to handle than what I can guess the night traffic will be like…

“We’re going to be here all day, aren’t we?” I ask, just to clarify.

“You know it.” Bai practically sings when she speaks, slipping through the crowd. Her grip on my wrist makes be force myself through a gap much more suited to Bai’s small frame. “All the stands, the parades… I wanna see everything. Plus my favorite part’s at night. Wanna guess?”

It’s a no brainer. “Fireworks.”

“Come on, at least pretend you have to think about it a little,” she pouts. “I know I didn’t tell you about it before, so how’d you know?”

“_Hanabi_,” I explain without really explaining anything.

We’re approaching the beginnings of the festival area, so Bai finds a relatively clear space of sidewalk to park us in for a few seconds. She turns to face me, one hand propped on a hip, the other maintaining its grip. “A little translation for the less than culturally informed, please?” she asks.

I’m almost surprised I’m still code switching at this point. It’s been a few years since I studied over in Japan. “It’s the Japanese word for fireworks,” I translate. “The characters it’s written with mean ‘fire flower.’ They look like giant, luminescent flowers. Of course you’d like them.”

Bai only gives a sheepish grin. “Alright, you got me. Guess I do make it obvious, though.” I snort, and Bai whacks my arm lightly. “But hey, do you think giant glowing plants exist on other planets? That’d be so super cool.”

“Why don’t you keep your head on earth today?” I tousle her hair a bit, making sure to avoid her hairpiece. “If you want to do everything, we better get started now. You’ve been working on your time management, right? Show me what you’ve got.”

“Mission accepted!” Bai looks proud, grinning. She puts a hand up to shade her eyes, then stands on her tiptoes, trying to observe the stands and displays in front of us. “Okay, so for the first order of business, it’ll be…”

“Cuì Jú!”

I blink slowly. Bai jumps a bit before turning in reaction to her name. Above the crowd, I see an arm waving. Its owner comes closer to us, revealing a boy that looks on the edge of university and adulthood. Clinging to his pant leg is a younger boy, looking like he’s still in grade school.

“Min Jia...” Bai mutters, right before her face breaks out into a smile. “Happy New Year, Min Jia!” Amidst her cheer, I recognize that this must be the boy’s name—probably one of her classmates.

“Happy New Year,” he repeats back to her. Min Jia’s content expression completely clashes with the boy at his leg, who looks like he wants nothing more to be back at home. “Right, you haven’t met, have you, Cuì Jú? This is my younger cousin, Shui. Say hi, why don’t you?”

Shui only retreats farther behind Min Jia’s leg. Bai kneels down to eye level, the pleats in her skirt fanning out, showing a second pattern of flower blossoms to match her hairpiece on the inside. “Hey, there,” she says, sounding very much like she does when she’s talking to a plant. “Happy New Year.”

Lulled out like a leaf to sunlight, Shui peaks his head back out, uttering a soft “Happy New Year.”

“Oh, you’re the guy that comes around the school sometimes,” Min Jia says, and I realize he’s talking to me. I shift my gaze away from the exchange close to the ground, making eye contact. I try to remember if we’ve ever spoken before. “Cuì Jú talks about you a lot. Hey, take care of her, okay?”

The words sound a bit too much like Jun for my own liking. I frown bit, keeping my eyes even. “Bai’s perfectly capable of taking care of herself,” I retort, and Min Jia quirks an eyebrow when I say her name. “I’m just here to provide company.”

“Come on now.” Bai stands up, her cheeks tinted pink. “You guys are embarrassing me,” she says. I feel her finger twitch against my wrist. “Sorry to not stay and chat, but we were just gonna get started. You guys have a good time, okay?” She turns to me, and I’m surprised that her expression hasn’t really shifted. “Let’s go, Ren.”

“Yeah…” I take a look at the cousins before we go. Min Jia’s moved on, leading Shui into a different part of the crowd, tiny fingers joined with larger ones. “Are you alright?”

Bai moves out of the way of a passerby rushing down the street, pressing her elbow against my arm in the process. “Sounding so concerned isn’t like you,” she comments, and I have to agree. “But I’m cool. I just wanted today to be between the two of us, so I felt like getting away, that’s all.”

“Because that guy was your ex?”

Bai pauses, and we end up blocking off the entrance to a stand filled with dumplings. The smell hits my nose, and I shift us over to the line, partly to get us out of the way. “Man, you’re too good at reading me,” she says. “But yeah, you’re right. I have nothing against him, it’s just…”

“Between me and you,” I interrupt, because in a way, that’s what I want, too. “Yeah, I can do that.” I turn her slightly so that she can read the menu board hanging by the stand’s sign. “What flavor do you want? I’ll get it for you.”


	10. 10. Xiān Kè Lái

**Xiān Kè Lái**

By: Aviantei

[Shibuya Operation—Story Storm]

10\. Xiān Kè Lái

* * *

It’s early March by the time we make it back to the café. Bai orders her blooming tea, and insists I try the new cake with her. I think it’s a bit too rich for my tastes—dark chocolate probably would have made a better balance—but Bai inhales it and its latest batch of icing flowers the same as always. The dark roots of her hair are coming out, almost a few centimeters of dirt beneath the pale green grass, growing in reverse.

Even so, the tea is good.

“So,” Bai says, her voice almost a puff of air all on its own, “how’s work been?”

She already knows the answer to that one. Busy. Exhausting. Endlessly fun. We haven’t been able to talk much other than short bursts of text messages with updates on our status. I have this meeting coming up, this test to study for. Between the two of us, I’m surprised we have enough time to breathe.

“Wrong,” I say. Not even time apart can make Bai unused to my blunt tone. The thought is comforting. “First off, there’s no point in talking about things like that. Second, it’s my turn to pick the subject. Wait your turn.”

Her smile is so warm. I don’t like the fact that I feel more nostalgic than anything else. “Alright then,” Bai allows, taking a drink with her tea still steaming, “what did you want to talk about, Mr. Bossy Pants?”

“How have you been feeling lately?”

I can admit it’s a concern. I know that she’s had a bigger workload, so it’s not like she’s been purposefully sending me less messages than before. And she’s right in front of me; she’s just as happy as always. I have no reason to think that she’s hiding anything from me. But if she’s feeling anything else, I want to know.

_Because I haven’t had the chance to know otherwise for a while._

“Boring!” Bai sings. “But it’s your turn, so I gotta follow the rules, huh?” Even though her plate’s empty, Bai picks up the small fork, balancing it between her fingers. “I’ve actually…been feeling really good lately. I don’t know what it is. I just feel like…I can do something. And just trying now makes me really happy. I’m having fun. I mean, I enjoyed a lot of things before, but now I don’t have to just relish the little things, because everything else is nice, too.”

“Took you long enough,” I criticize, but it’s half-hearted. Because in the end, I really feel the same. All the running around and hard work I’ve been experiencing lately…it’s fun. Maybe it’s the fact that I’m closer to what I imagined, but I don’t mind coming home exhausted every night.

Bai laughs. Counterarguments aren’t a part of her nature. “You’re right,” she says. “I’m actually very lucky, I think.” She pauses for a second, then looks back to me. “So what about you then? How’s Tao Ren been feeling lately?”

“I’m alive.”

“That’s not an answer!” Bai objects, the chortles not yet dissipated from her voice. “But okay, you’re not touchy feely. I get it. Besides, I’ve kind of got big news.”

I expect Bai to burst into an immediate explanation. Instead, she fidgets a bit, her shoulders jostling slightly. She’ll probably open up on her own eventually, but there’s nothing wrong with giving her a little push. “Do you intend to share or just build up dramatic tension all day?” I prod.

It’s almost like that’s what she’s waiting for, Bai bursts out, “There’saresearchprojectinHainanandI’mgoing!”

I blink. It takes a second, but I’m able to process what she just said. Letting the implications sink in is another matter.

As if realizing she needs to explain herself, Bai takes a few breaths before speaking again. “We had a project in one of our courses. The professor used to work with the group in Hainan, and heard that they were accepting interns and the like. She liked my project, so she recommended me, and I actually got in.” A smile keeps widening her expression, a flourishing of pride. “I actually got in,” she repeats, like she’s the one that needs convincing.

I smile myself. It’s not my victory, but I’m still happy for her. “Congratulations,” I say, sounding completely cliché. “So what’s the project looking into?”

“Creating optimal growth conditions for plants,” Bai says. She was pretty much born for this. “They work with all kinds of samples. Endangered species, creating better means of mass harvesting essential crops… They even have connections companies that are trying to create cleaner fuel resources, so there’s cross research in that account. And it’s the most beautiful place. Oh, I have pictures…”

Bai digs into her bag and pulls out her phone. She stands up from her seat and slips into the one beside me. She scrolls through the pictures, and even I’m impressed. There are shots of indoor sanctuaries, much like the indoor gardens back home, but much bigger. Fields of plants and crops. Everything looks bright and alive, and I don’t think it’s just a Photoshop job that’s the cause.

It’s really the perfect sort of place for her.

“How long are you gonna be away?” I’m pretty much reading through a list of standard questions, but I am curious about the answers.

Eyes focusing on placing her phone back in her bag, Bai’s fidgeting seems to happen in more frequent bursts, the increase of a bodily earthquake. “I don’t know,” she admits, sliding her attention to her depleted teacup across the table. She doesn’t make a move to go back over. “It’s a continuing project. I could be there a few months…or even up to a year, if they want to keep me around. And if things go really well, I wouldn’t even have to come back if I didn’t want to…”

Finally, she makes eye contact. The expectation is obvious. She won’t make a decision until she hears from me.

_Honestly, just what does she think she needs my permission for?_

I rap my knuckles against the table, and Bai jumps. “_Listen_,” I emphasize, just to make sure I have her attention. “Don’t go trying to put this on me. It’s _your_ life, so it’s _your_ decision.” Her eyes shift from apprehension to surprise. “Sure, I’ll miss having you around to chat with. But if you earned it you need to go and do it. Oh, and just so you know, Hainan is _not_ the moon. It’s not like you’re going to be stuck if you go.”

For a moment, I wonder if she’s going to cry. But Bai nods a few times with vigor before wrapping her arms around my shoulders and giving a little squeeze.

“Thanks,” she whispers.

I roll my eyes but don’t shake her off.


	11. Epilogue. Zhǒngzǐ

**Xiān Kè Lái**

By: Aviantei

[Shibuya Operation—Story Storm]

Epilogue. Zhǒngzǐ

* * *

_“I’m kinda surprised you called over something like this,” _Yoh says on the other line. Just like I predicted, there’s a slight chuckle to his voice._ “But it’s nice to talk again after all this time.”_

I want to scowl but I end up smiling the slightest bit. Not that it matters over a phone call. “Shut up, Yoh,” I say, as half-hearted in an insult as it gets.

My old college friend gives his usual chuckle, completely unfazed. _“Heheh, alright,”_ he agrees. There’s a crackle as she shifts the phone around. _“So what’re you gonna do now?”_

“What are you even talking about?” I look around the employee longue. Despite the hour, it’s pretty empty. Seems I’m the only one that decided to stay in today. It’s a slight reassurance. “She can do what she wants.”

_“Yeah, but are you gonna go see her or anything?”_ Yoh presses on, like it’s a logical jump in the conversation. _“Come on, Ren, it takes a lot for you to make a friend. Don’t tell me you’re just gonna let it slide like—”_

“I’m going to be late for my meeting, Yoh,” I interrupt. Not that I’ve looked at the clock or anything to confirm it. “If you ever feel like talking about anything but nonsense, you know where to call.” I stand up anyway and head for the door. There’s no harm in being early.

Yoh hums out a happy confirmation. _“Alright. Have a good day, Ren.”_

I grunt before I hang up. My phone’s screen has a notification blinking. When I open it up, it’s from Bai.

_[Today’s your big meeting, right? Good luck!]_

Heading to the meeting room, I turn my phone off before slipping it into my pocket. I wouldn’t call it anything particularly special, but today is finally the day for the foreign representative to arrive. Even with my promotion, I’ve still been assigned to be the ambassador. We’re going to have a meeting for introductions, and then I’m in charge.

As I head upstairs, the hallways get quieter. The bustle of workers condensed into a smaller space thins out. I give a quick knock on the assigned meeting room to make sure I’m not interrupting anyone using the space in the meantime, and go to step inside.

“Come in.”

I stop. I definitely wasn’t expecting to hear anyone. It’s light, female, and accented. Italian at that.

At the table stands a woman, dressed in a white business suit. Her hair is just as white, falling down her back in waves. She opens her eyes, a shocking red.

“Sorry if I’m too early,” she says. I’m impressed by her inflections. “My name is Jeanne.”

Polite. Prim. Almost the opposite of Bai’s familiarity. But at the same time, something is comforting.

“It’s nice to meet you. I’m Tao Ren.”


End file.
